


Keeping a Promise

by RobberBaroness



Category: Sweeney Todd - Sondheim/Wheeler
Genre: Community: 10_quotes, F/M, Prostitution, Vigilantism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-28
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-12-03 21:32:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/702852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobberBaroness/pseuds/RobberBaroness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Toby had sworn to protect Mrs. Lovett, but after she was dead, any woman would have to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keeping a Promise

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the livejournal community 10_quotes- the prompt was a line from Vertigo. As in the revival setting, Toby is in his teens.

The girls on the street called him Mad Toby, though of course not to his face. It was a name spoken with a combination of fear and affection- fear at the thought that he might snap and use his razor in a way they didn’t like, and affection for all the times he’d used it in a way they did.

Abigail had been the first to see him. Shoved up against the alley wall- not the first or the last time that the customer had decided he liked it rougher than she offered and wasn’t intent on paying- there had been a shadow, then a flash of silver, and then the grip on her shoulders had gone away, her attacker crumpled to the ground. Standing before her was another man, thin and wild-eyed, clutching a bloody razor.

“Mrs. Lovett? It’s alright, Mum. Mr. Todd won’t hurt you again!”

***

It had taken the girls a while to decide what to do with him. There had been a few for taking a pistol and being done with it, but overall they thought his presence might be a good thing. He didn’t ask for money, and he certainly did a better job protecting them than the men who took cuts of their wages. And so an odd sort of arrangement had been worked out- Mad Toby would watch them from the shadows when they took a punter, and if things got bad they would call out his name. Lord knew there were times they’d needed him- once, there’d been a man who’d knocked poor Laura down with a knife in his hand! Who knew what would have happened without their mad little watcher.

They weren’t sure where the bodies went afterwards. He seemed to take care of that well enough on his own.

All Mad Toby asked in return for his protection (though he never worded it as such) was for them to let him believe they were some other woman. He usually called a girl Aunt Nellie, Mrs. Lovett, or Mum- they weren’t sure if they were different names for the same woman or all varied characters he imagined himself saving. In any case, he would hold the girls close and tell them Mr. Todd wouldn’t hurt them, on the verge of tears until he had been assured he was a good boy who had done well for his Mum.

“You think he’s the Fleet Street boy?” asked Abigail one evening. “The one who escaped from Bedlam last May? It’s near when I first saw him.”

“Fleet Street?” asked Hettie. “You mean the one where they found all those bodies in the bakehouse? Could be. Maybe his Mum ended up as a pastry.”

Abigail looked over to where the boy sat, curled up in a corner, singing a nursery rhyme to himself.

“Poor thing. Anyone could become obsessed with a thing like that happening to them!”

***

In his mind, Toby would paint over the red, brown, or yellow hair and make it as dark as hers had been. He would take away a few pounds and a few wrinkles, hear her voice as warm instead of bitter, and replace the scent of the streets with that of flour. If he made enough little changes, there she would be- Mrs. Lovett alive again, there for him to save.

In the alleyways or cheap hotels, he would jump out and cut Todd down before he had the chance to hurt her again. Todd seemed to keep coming back no matter how many times he did this, but he kept it up nonetheless. It was all worth it to hear her call for him to help her, and be there when she needed him.

He’d be her boy, her lover, her savior. Nothing would ever harm Mrs. Lovett, whoever she appeared to be. Not while he was around.


End file.
